


In Which the SSSS Crew Does Not Put On the Musical 'Hair'

by wavewright62



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Dat Braid, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9232232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavewright62/pseuds/wavewright62
Summary: I hope this brings a smile to your dial.  Emil is not the only one who knows how to play Hairdresser.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PurpleWyrm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleWyrm/gifts).



Lalli sat mesmerised by the golden shimmer. As Emil packed more cartridges onto his bandolier, his hair kept escaping from behind his ears and falling into his face again. Over and over it would fall in a silken curtain, and each time Emil would tuck it behind his ear again. When Tuuri spoke to him ("something something troll something danger soup something") Emil had to exasperatedly physically hold the fringe off his forehead to see her properly. Tuuri laughed and imitated the movement, holding her own blonde fringe back from her face, then said something else about 'pretty' back to him. Emil gestured at Sigrun, who was dressed and impatient to go anyway.

Sigrun just shrugged and shook her own magnificent red hair, which obediently fell into line off her face. She brought out her knife and smiled as she made little upward slashing motions with the tip. Lalli wished he could understand what she said next, because it caused Mikkel to reflexively cover his sideburns and rumble something. Tuuri gestured at Lalli and said something cut to the something ferret boots something something, and then fluffed out her fringe again. Everybody was looking at him now, and Lalli stepped back from their glances. Tuuri said to him in Finnish, "I told them you can cut hair, like you cut everyone's hair in Keuruu."

Everyone in Keuruu? Certainly not. Lalli always cut his own hair, because he couldn't stand hair on the back of his collar but still wanted the front long enough to block the wind coming into his uniform hood. Onni, on the other hand, liked the opposite, hair down the back of his neck but off his face, but still asked Lalli to cut it for him. Tuuri had whacked off her own wavy ponytail before coming on the mission, but had done such a poor job of it that Lalli couldn't stand to look at her and offered to fix it without realising *why* she'd cut it. The other night scouts got Lalli to cut their hair because nobody else was awake at night. Also the day scouts and hunters, because Lalli was still alert before they started their shift. Oh, and the kitchen staff too, because they were up early. Most of the skalds, male and female, just grew it long and kept it tied back like Tuuri had. However, the head mage insisted that her hair should always come 5.5cm below her bottom eyelid all the way around, and only Lalli was precise enough to do it evenly by eye. And…wait. He _did_ cut most of the base's hair, didn't he?

Emil was looking at Lalli somewhat doubtfully, but Sigrun barked something at him and gestured for the door, and he picked up the gear as they went out for the day's pillaging. Mikkel was now talking to Tuuri again, and neither of them was looking at Lalli anymore. If Tuuri didn't want to grow her hair back long, then she could use a haircut. Her hair was half grown over her ears again and just starting to curl in the back. Mikkel was shaggy as ever, but Lalli could imagine him with the back and sides short while leaving the top long enough to wave. The sideburns would have to go, though. Maybe.

Lalli's glance fell upon Reynir, who was picking up the breakfast dishes. Lalli didn't consider that Reynir had caught none of the previous conversation, he was transfixed as always by that plait. That long plait with bits of curly stuff sticking out of it at random intervals. That long stupid plait and the stupid loopy fringe that was too short to stay in the plait but constantly flooping around the Icelander's face. Super-dumb hair. Super-dumb red curly hair. Super-dumb red curly hair that he occasionally unwound in a fall of copper waves. Shimmering copper waves like the sunset on the birch leaves in autumn, rustling in the gentle wind of the hairbrush as he brushed them until they shone.

Lalli gulped; he'd forgotten to breathe again. He hated it when he forgot to breathe. Super-dumb Reynir and his super-dumb hair.

Mikkel was smiling at him. Lalli wasn't sure that was a good thing. Still looking at Lalli, Mikkel had called Tuuri over and was saying something to her. Lalli held his stare, would not break his stare, absolutely on principle could not break his stare now. Fortunately, Mikkel broke the stare first, and Lalli could then check where he'd been about to sit. No, nothing unsavoury there.

Tuuri came over and said cheerfully, "Maybe you could give my hair a trim? It's better if I keep it short for the mission." She ran her hand over the back of her head and grinned. "I'm not such a fuzzyhead now, and I hate to think what Sigrun will call me next." Lalli had no idea what that last comment was supposed to mean, but shrugged. Tuuri often said things that made no sense. She continued, "Mikkel thinks maybe you could cut everybody's hair?"

"Mrrh. Only if it's clean." There was nothing worse than trying to cut stinky greasy hair.

"Hmmm, okay, maybe tonight then? I'll wash this afternoon, get Mikkel to wash too, and then maybe Sigrun and Emil after their decon bath?"

Lalli considered this. "Reynir?"

Tuuri's eyes opened wide. "Eeiiii, you _can't_ cut _Reynir's_ hair," she brought her hands to her face in horror. "it's too byoooutiful!"

Lalli kept his face blank. "Let me see your scissors." Tuuri fished them out of the rubble surrounding the desk. Lalli sighed. The scissors were dull, so dull, no appreciation for good tools, and she was supposed to be a mechanic! He brought out the whetstone and set to work. There was nothing like the rhythm of blade on stone to bring on a restful state of mind.

\------

Lalli was woken up by Tuuri shaking him. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, wondering why he was being woken up while it was still light out. Tuuri's hair was wet and she was saying, "Wake up, wake up, I've had my bath, let's get my hair cut before Sigrun and Emil finish decontaminating the day's books." Ah, of course, the haircuts! He stretched.

Tuuri had set up a chair outside, under the tarpaulin awning. Lalli brought out another chair to use as an implement table, while Tuuri fidgeted happily in the chair. Tuuri's hair was easy to cut, Lalli thought, good Finnish hair. She also sat quite still and didn't talk, letting Lalli snip with a minimum of fuss. When he had finished and he whipped the towel from around her neck with a flourish, she ran her hands over the short cut, sending stray silvery bits of cut hair glittering through the air. "Thank you," she trilled.

Emil was next, and discussing something with Tuuri at some length, presumably about his haircut based on the gesturing with his hands. Lalli waited with his head cocked to one side, observing. He noted Emil's repeated gesture of slicing his hands through space right over his jawline. By the time Tuuri translated, Lalli had already figured out that Emil just wanted a trim and dismissed from his mind any speculation about a style that would better suit his features. Ah well, considering how Emil could just fluff his hair and it would fall shimmering into perfect place, a poor cut would jeopardise his ability to do that.

At first Emil eyed Lalli nervously as the latter combed through the wet hair and made the first cuts, but then relaxed as Lalli settled into the rhythm. Emil's hair was thicker than his own or Tuuri's and there was much more of it as well, so Lalli was having to do some careful undercutting. Then Emil relaxed a bit too much and fell asleep in the chair, and his head fell forward with a jerk.

Instead of a tiny snip to even up a stray bit, Lalli mistakenly lopped off a 10cm chunk of hair from just above Emil's ear.

Groggily Emil grinned up at Lalli and said in shaky Finnish, "Sorry." Lalli couldn't come up with any of his rudimentary Swedish in his panic at seeing the jagged cut ruining the perfect finish he'd been trying to create. _What was he going to do?_

Trying to buy time to think, he took a similar cut off the other side, then tried a bit of stair-stepping the locks to frame the face. All wrong, the Swan of Tuonela should just take him now. Suddenly inspiration took hold of him and the scissors flew as he snipped. Emil was looking up at him with a bit of worry in his sleepy blue eyes as the golden snips of hair flew away in front of his face, but kept still. At last Lalli was satisfied and stepped back with a small smile.

Emil gave his head a shake and tidied his hair, and Lalli was relieved to see the shimmer return to Emil's hair. He had made many tiny cuts in the section around Emil's face, giving an effect like feathers fanning along the side of Emil's head, much like the wings of a swan.

Emil hustled over to the remaining side mirror on the tank to inspect himself. Lalli held his breath. Then Emil turned to him and smiled, and Lalli could breathe out again.

Sigrun came over from her decon bath, hair dripping wet. She looked at Emil preening himself in the mirror, then back at Lalli. Disdainfully she gave her head a shake and her red locks fell into perfect place, all of the ends aligning into a perfect flip. Lalli held up his hands and told Tuuri, "She can wait if she wants, no need to cut her hair if she doesn't want it." As Tuuri translated, Sigrun smiled at Lalli and stalked off into the tank.

\------

Lalli shook out the towel before carefully draping it over his arm before motioning Mikkel to sit. The latter did so reluctantly, grumbling to Tuuri, "My hair is fine, I don't need a trim. Tell him to only take a centimeter or two, and not to touch the sideburns." Tuuri shrugged and translated Mikkel's request to Lalli.

Lalli cocked his head to one side, studying Mikkel, then went inside to rummage in the kitchen for a moment before bringing out Mikkel's mixing bowl. Mikkel sat staunch, eyeing Lalli. Lalli returned the stare.

Not breaking his stare with Lalli, Mikkel crossed his arms.

Not breaking his stare with Mikkel, Lalli held up the bowl and deftly turned it upside down, showing it to Mikkel. Mikkel's eyes widened, then narrowed.

Not breaking his stare with Lalli, he lowered his head slowly to glare from below his bushy eyebrows, and snorted.

Not breaking his stare with Mikkel, Lalli brandished the scissors – snip, snip, he snipped the air.

Not breaking his stare with Lalli, Mikkel shook his head and snorted again.

Not breaking his stare with Mikkel, Lalli took two paces forward to close the gap between them. He turned the bowl in his hands again before balancing it over his left index finger and spinning it.

Mikkel momentarily broke the stare to follow the spinning bowl. Into that gap Lalli sprung into action and bringing his right arm around, snipped a few inches off the right front lock of Mikkel's hair. The sandy waves hung in the air for a moment before falling lightly to the floor.

Mikkel roared and made a grab for the scissors, but Lalli sprang deftly backward out of reach. "Oh _hey!"_ Tuuri cried out, as Mikkel stood up to go after Lalli. "Now that it's cut, just let him finish." Mikkel sat back down, grumbling, but Lalli had decided against the short back and sides option by then, and made the requisite cuts as fast as he could at that point. 

After Mikkel had stalked back into the tank and Lalli was wiping the scissors clean, Reynir poked his head out of the tank. "Mikkel said you wanted to see me?" he said to Tuuri.

Tuuri noticed Lalli pop his head up with interest, and seeing the gleam in his eye, she was quick to come over to the tank to reassure Reynir, "Oh no, Lalli was just cutting some of our hair, but he's done now!" She pushed Reynir by the shoulders to go back into the tank. He resisted, and she cried out, "NOOO, he's done, he won't cut your hair!"

Reynir's eyes lit up and he easily loped past Tuuri, smiling, "Great, I really need a haircut! Please _please_ ask Lúlli if he'll cut it for me?" He bounded over to Lalli, taking out the thongs binding his plait as he went.

Mikkel popped his head out the door of the tank to see if his ploy had worked, but his eyes widened at the scene before him. Tuuri's wails went unheard as Reynir's hair fell out of its plait and Reynir shook out the strands. Lalli forgot to breathe again and almost fainted at the sight. Reynir had sat himself down in the chair and was combing his fingers through all those coppery waves.

"Even in the plait, it is just really in the way and I would so luuuuuurrvve to have it short and please tell him that, Tuuri, and really if he wants to take all of it off and just leave it short like yours that would be so awesome and I really like what he did with Emil's and mine could never do that because it's all curly and just soooo long!"

Reynir turned to Tuuri expectantly to translate for him, but she had her face in her hands and was shaking her head. So he turned back to Lalli, who was staring at him with enormous grey eyes, clutching the scissors and comb to his chest. He gestured at Lalli, grabbing handfuls of hair and making cutting motions with his fingers, right along his skull. Reynir then grinned broadly, took the towel from Lalli's arm and looped it around his shoulders, then nodded as he smiled expectantly up at Lalli.

Lalli willed himself to breathe again, and uncurled shaking hands to bring the comb to bear. Slowly he combed one length of Reynir's hair from roots to tip, marvelling in the waving and curling of the strands in advance of the comb. He closed his eyes briefly and could hear Tuuri's wailing as his own. He opened his eyes, summoned his sisu, brought the scissors up to the lock of hair, and opened the blades to cut.

The next thing he saw was the tarpaulin flapping in the wind just over his face. Tuuri shoved the tarpaulin aside as she knelt down and leaned over him, "Lalli Lalli are you all right?" Was he? He was disoriented.

Then Reynir leaned over next to Tuuri and peered down into Lalli's face as well, making similar noises. Reynir's unbound hair cascaded over Lalli's face, making Lalli's eyes roll back into their sockets, but at least he remembered. He was supposed to be cutting off that super dumb hair of Reynir's. What had happened? He shrugged off Tuuri's hands and sprang back up, and saw with some shock that he was now a good three meters away from where he'd been standing a moment ago.

The chair Reynir had been sitting in was intact, but the other chair was also a few meters away, lodged in a bush. All of the golden and sandy strands on the ground from Emil and Mikkel's haircuts were aligned in a radiating sunburst pattern around the chair. The clothesline Mikkel had strung up was in a heap on the ground. The scissors were still hanging from Lalli's thumb, but the comb was nowhere to be seen.

Sigrun had leapt out of the tank and was stalking around, knife drawn and ready as she scanned for the threat. The cat peered out cautiously from under the tank where she had fled, but wasn't fluffed out. Mikkel and Emil were trying to hustle Tuuri and Reynir back into the tank to safety, but Reynir pushed Emil off.

"No, no, I'm fine! No, it's okay, it's fine," Reynir protested as he tried to prise Tuuri out of Mikkel's arms, "please! This, this happens when," he gasped and flopped his hands down to his knees, "when we try to cut my hair." The wayward strands blew in his face and he stood up again as he gathered them up in one hand. Mikkel had stopped his charge back to the tank but hadn't yet put Tuuri down, and both of them were staring at Reynir.

Sigrun asked Mikkel what Reynir had said. Mikkel put Tuuri down and reported that they were apparently fine but one of Emil's charges must have been discharged accidentally. Sigrun's eyes narrowed as she considered Emil, who was walking back to the tank with Lalli. She barked at Emil that he needed to be more careful with his ordnance, and while his eyes widened, he didn't refute her. He frowned as he petulantly fished the second chair out of the bush where it had landed.

Reynir was replaiting his hair with a woebegone expression. "My hair resists cutting. I'm sorry, I forgot about that. I'm so sorry, apologise to Lúlli for me!" Tuuri complied. "It's been years since I've even tried," he sighed, "I hate my hair. It's ….super dumb."

Lalli considered the foreign mage with narrowed eyes. Tuuri said it was an accident, but he doubted that. Fight with magic, would he? Lalli could handle that. He was already devising a runo. Someday…

**Author's Note:**

> Caitlyn Jenner, please call your office, Emil has stolen your hairstyle from 1976.
> 
> Happy New Year, PurpleWyrm, may 2017 bring you warmth and comfort.


End file.
